


so baby, say you'll always keep me

by goodmorningbeloved



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorningbeloved/pseuds/goodmorningbeloved
Summary: Rafe chuckles, tilting his head downwards slightly to speak, and Sam resorts to peppering the side of his face with little kisses instead. "That," he says, and for a moment Sam hopes to distract him with another full, proper kiss, but then Rafe goes on, "You put your hands in my back pockets." He glances upwards, his smile turning sly but also strangely pleased. "You know, when you kiss me."--Or: Sam, Rafe, and a new house.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1) title is from 1d's "truly madly deeply" which is a ridiculous & almost cringey-cheesy, but me? i love it .  
> 2) this is so self indulgent  
> 3) idc

"I noticed something," Rafe hums against Sam's mouth, which isn't fair because Sam thought he was doing a fairly good job of kissing him senseless. Breathless. Wordless?

And so maybe Sam's a little distracted trying to do just that more thoroughly to really think about Rafe's words. He mumbles something like, "Wha'?" as his hands busily runs down Rafe's sides. He slides his palms over, imagining tracing Rafe's hipbones instead of those really expensive denim jeans, until he's smoothing his hand over the line of Rafe's arse unabashedly. It's morning. It's a good day.

"Mm," Rafe says, appreciative, his head lolling lazily against the window of the new house-- _their_ new house. Sam's heart's still stutters, stumbles at the thought of it, even though it's something they had been planning for months. He's not sure why - he feels a little overwhelmed. Not in a bad way, just. This _house_ , it's there and it's _theirs_.

He pulls back to simultaneously catch his breath and to assess Rafe, trapped between him and the pristine glass window, Rafe's kiss-flushed mouth and Rafe's reddening cheeks. Sam's heart stutters at the sight of  _him_  too, especially when Rafe catches his gaze and his eyes seem to soften, a little smile ghosting his lips.

They have a house. It's theirs.  _Theirs._

Christ, Sam's in love.

"You were saying somethin'?" he murmurs, and then he sweeps down to capture Rafe's mouth in another kiss because he can't help it. His fingertips find the top line of Rafe's pockets and Sam neatly slips his hands in, using it as leverage to pull Rafe closer against him instead.

Rafe chuckles, tilting his head downwards slightly to speak, and Sam resorts to peppering the side of his face with little kisses instead. "That," he says, and for a moment Sam hopes to distract him with another full, proper kiss, but then Rafe goes on, "You put your hands in my back pockets." He glances upwards, his smile turning sly but also strangely pleased. "You know, when you kiss me."

When Sam grins back, it's a little wolfish at having been caught. "Can't help it," he sighs dramatically, pressing a kiss to the corner of Rafe's eye. "I like touching you."

"You like touching my  _ass_."

"They're nice jeans," Sam says, a tad defensive. "And you happen to have a nice ass."

But now that Rafe's pointed it out, he realizes he  _does_ have a habit of doing that, doesn't he, and he feels a little self conscious. He begins to pull his hands back, assuming Rafe brought it up for a reason, only to be stilled by Rafe's hand closing around his wrist. "Didn't say I  _didn't_ like it," Rafe says.

"That's a double negative," Sam teases. "Not sure what you mean there." He barely bothers to make it sound like a convincing lie, though the way his hands slide deeper back into Rafe's pockets probably gives enough evidence that he knows exactly what Rafe means. "Hey, hold onto me." When Rafe circles his arms around his shoulders, he beams and says, "Yeah, like that, sweetheart." He catches the way Rafe's mouth twitches into a wider smile at the endearment. Rafe likes that, Sam knows, likes Sam whispering sweet little things into his ear when Sam has him pinned on the mattress or against the wall. Sam secures his grip and lifts him, and Rafe's legs slip around his waist easily, naturally. Sam knows he likes it this way too.

"Sam," Rafe sighs, arching against him. The movement brings their hips impossibly closer together, and soon Rafe is yanking him down into another kiss that eliminates the space between the rest of their bodies too.

The house ( _theirs, theirs, theirs_ ) sits at the end of the street in a more secluded spot, but frankly they might as well be openly in front of their neighbors and Sam would still choose to kiss Rafe, because his chest feels so, so full of something warm and bright and _good_ , and it seems like the most urgent thing at the moment to tell Rafe that he feels that something because he's in love with him.

"Love you," he says into the kiss, then, in case Rafe doesn't know it. "I love you so much, you know that?"

He thinks he feels the heat rising in Rafe's cheeks; he can't tell if the younger man is blushing, because he suddenly buries his face into Sam's neck. Sam almost misses the "I love you too, idiot," that Rafe mumbles there, but when he hears the words, the tightness in his chest relents a little, like his heart can now breathe easier knowing that Rafe  _knows_.

"You know, when you said we should christen the house," Rafe adds, voice low, "I thought you'd meant the bedroom, not the front window."

Sam thinks for a moment. "Bed's not set up yet," he says grudgingly, leaning his forehead against Rafe's. As nice as the friction is, building heat between them steadily, this is also nice - the ease and comfort with which he can fall into Rafe's orbit and simply stay there, being  _with_ him. He knows it's taken them a while to reach this level of comfort, but now that he's there, he's not sure if he ever wants to leave.

Rafe arches a brow. For a moment, Sam regrets that his hands aren't free to cup his face. "Has that ever stopped us before?"

Sam makes a show of thinking about it before relenting, "That is very true."

Then he lowers Rafe a little so the other man can stand, but Rafe simply winds his arms around Sam's shoulders. "Ah, ah," he says, eyes positively mirthful. "Tradition says you should carry me over the threshold."

Spoiled rotten, he is, but God, is Sam besotted. "Who is this tradition, huh? Did they say it had to be you?"

"Mm. No, but I kind of like where I am already, and I think you do too."

"I like you wherever you are," Sam amends, but he's smiling and he's in  _love_ so he makes sure Rafe is ready before moving them towards the door, angling his body so he can unlock it with one hand.

"You're so goddamn cheesy," Rafe says with a roll of his eyes, but he's smiling too.

"Rafe, you wanted me to carry you over the threshold," Sam says, all fond laughter and no meanness. "Babe, that's, like,  _the_ definition of ch— Rafe." He's cut short when he feels Rafe's fingers slowly but surely creep up the back of his neck in whisper-soft touches, tickling the skin under his hair. " _Ah,_ Rafe," he laughs as he struggles to open the door and maintain his hold on Rafe at the same time, "shit, that's not fair."

Rafe does relent, and Sam drops a quick kiss on his cheek as he finally nudges the door open. "We get to come back to this every day now," Rafe murmurs before Sam moves them inside. His voice has tempered down to something more reverent, and Sam smiles at him, this time softer.

"Home," he agrees. "We get to come home."

There are no grand fireworks as they step over the threshold, of course, but when Sam kisses him and Rafe laughs, slightly muffled but genuine and  _happy_  into the kiss - well, maybe he sees something close enough.

**Author's Note:**

> 4) i changed my url to [ughrafe](http://ughrafe.tumblr.com) on tumblr to more properly reflect my garbage status. feel free to drop prompts there & give me an excuse to write more of these idiots


End file.
